


Nothing in between

by stjarna



Series: Season 4 - Coda Challenge [10]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AOS adventcalendar, Coda, Coda Challenge @The FitzSimmons Network, F/M, Feels, Fluff, I have a lot of feels, Post-Episode: s04e07 Deals With Our Devils, Short, Short & Sweet, Tumblr, Tumblr: thefitzsimmonsnetwork, prompt: home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:18:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8717137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Written for The "Season 4, Episode 7 - Deals With Our Devils " Coda Challenge organized by The Fitzsimmons Network and AOS advent 2016 organized by the wonderful theclaravoyant on Tumblr





	

Every cell in his body is filled with rage as he marches down the corridor towards the man who calls himself the Director and is yet so unfit to do the job. He is ready to speak his mind, ready to demand answers, ready to fight, win or lose.

And then he hears her voice. Hears his name. And it is as if he is once again pulled into a different dimension. Only this one isn’t dark, isn’t deadly. It is filled with love and light. It is  _ their _ dimension and it engulfs them as their arms wrap around each other, reassure each other of their presence. The world around them disappears and it doesn’t matter. They’re reunited. They’re home in each other’s arms.

When she breaks their embrace, grabbing his hand instead, pulling him along the corridor towards their quarters, their dimension follows them.

The door closes behind them, and their hands reach for each other, cupping each other’s faces, searching each other’s eyes, each other’s souls. It’s as if they are two bodies but one mind determined never to be split in two again. Their eager lips search for each other, only allowing them to part long enough to ask for forgiveness, to whisper love confessions, promises never to let go off the other, pleas to never let anything get between them again. She kisses away his salty tears, believing it will allow her to always carry part of him with her. He kisses her eyes, which he thought he’d never see again.

They undress each other slowly, their eyes fixed on each other, their hands, their fingers exploring every inch of their bodies, tracing old scars, freckles, worry-lines they had never noticed even existed. They map each other, committing each feature, each cell to memory. They let their bodies become one, their minds melt. Their dimension, their universe surrounds them. Their fingers, skin, eyes, lips hold a silent conversation so deep that night they can’t remember ever having been more open about their feelings, their fears, their hopes and dreams.

Now her head rests on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, counting each pulse gently drumming against her ear. Her eyes are closed as she memorizes her new favorite symphony in which his heart and lungs are the orchestra. Her body is pressed against his, their limbs intertwined.

“I want to leave,” she whispers against his naked chest.

He stirs, trying to sit up, and the movement forces her to readjust her position, open her eyes, and look at him.

“Me?” he asks, his eyes screaming in fear.

A sad smile flashes across her face. She climbs on top of him, straddling his hips with her legs, and cups his face with her hands.

“ _ With _ you,” she reassures him, leaning down to kiss away the worry in his eyes. “We never got to the Seychelles, or Perthshire.” She inhales slowly, her hands still caressing his stubble. “I want a day, a week, a month away from it all. Just us. I’ve missed us.” She presses her lips together, her fingers tracing his hairline. “I think we started to take each other for granted. We put ourselves, our relationship second.” A tear rolls down her cheek and is caught by the corner of her mouth. “I want  _ us _ to come first. I want  _ you _ to come first. I want our own place. Bay windows, breakfast nook. Our place, our sanctuary.”

“Let’s leave then,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper, and yet resonating in every cell of her body. “Vacation first. And then a home just for us. And then a future with you. Wherever you want. Here. Perthshire. The moon. Just you and me and nothing in between.”

“Nothing in between,” she whispers, leaning down, hungry to feel his soft lips against hers again.


End file.
